


That is you.

by Yui_Miyamoto



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on LiveJournal, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:16:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27154387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yui_Miyamoto/pseuds/Yui_Miyamoto
Summary: Living together in Russia for a few months, Yuuri wonders if he’s really cut out to be Viktor’s student. And Viktor, in turn, has a few insecurities of his own.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov





	1. Prologue / Yuuri – Enter your world.

**Disclaimer – Yuuri on Ice does not belong to me.  
  
**  
Shhh shh shhh…Saitama Arena.  
I closed my eyes to hear the sound of his skates on the ice.   
  
I envied the rink: Feeling his love, the pressure of his body, being enwrapped with his presence. He was only in practice mode, but even when he blew into his hands, I could feel how in love he was with the ice, that he wanted this more than anything. Everything before or after didn’t matter. Only “now”.  
  
Holding his chin, he smiled seductively while passing by me before spreading his arms for a triple axel.   
Gliding, it seemed more on the flirtatious side when he looked down and around coyly. Closing his eyes as he turned, his long hair twirled along with it. I opened my mouth but was too shy to call out.  
  
My ravaged heart already drowned out my ears.  
  
Caught up in his pace,   
floating like a snowflake in the center of winter,   
whirling round and round,   
my heart follows him  
quickly and then I held my breath,   
waiting for the next wave.  
  
Lowering his body,   
his head moves forward revealing his neck,  
the gorgeous curve of his spine,  
fingers reach out to the tip of his skates,  
the strings of the violins build   
for the flight of wings.  
Art caught in a perfect moment  
arms opening as he sit spins,  
ready to enfold once more  
into his shell.  
  
I found my fingertips reaching out for him.   
What does it feel like…  
  
No. What does _he_ feel like?  
  
The camera paces closer towards his statuesque face and before I knew it, he surprised me. I jumped back. The tv static brought me back to reality.   
  
I’d just kissed the screen with Nikiforov Viktor’s enigmatic smile staring back at me.  
  
Whipping my head from side to side, I’d wondered if someone caught me. I didn’t want my family to see even if they already knew.   
Vicchan was sleeping a few centimeters away from me, but lifting up his head. He got up to lick my face, worriedly whining to ask me what was wrong.  
  
Overcome by the beauty of his performance and my shame, I started to cry without really knowing why.  
  
How would I enter inside your world?  
 **  
Tsuzuku… / To be continued…**


	2. Part 1 / Yuuri – I need you more than you need me.

**Disclaimer – Yuuri on Ice belongs to Kubo and Yamamoto-sensei. And MAPPA!  
Help Me is a Eurobeat song by David Dima.  
**

  
Fall. Another fall. Again, I fall…   
  
I grunt, but I try not to show my discomfort. My disappointment in myself hurts more than all the bruises building on my body.  
Once more, he skates towards me from the halfway point of the rink. Under the international flags hanging overhead, he demonstrates the quad flip.   
  
The bangs brushing his forehead with his own wind, the solidness of his back, the blades rotating in the air and I’m completely in love all over again. He lands perfectly on one foot and even holds onto the railing to watch me when he finishes.   
It’s a science with this man. He knows exactly where he’s going and where he’ll land.  
  
But behind me and within earshot, I hear a sigh of impatience escape his lips.   
  
“Should we end for today?” I stand still with my back towards him, dance music playing in the background.   
“I think maybe that’s best. Your concentration’s off today.”  
“I _am_ concentrating.”  
  
My eyes open in shock. Usually, he encourages me to go on for a little bit more. In fact, he’s so strict that he never agrees to stopping even when I joke about it, so what’s happening?  
  
Against my better judgment, I angrily attempt it one more time.   
  
Shh shhkk shh…  
  
I hold my arms out and refuse to look towards his direction. Backwards, I skate into a mini turn before leaning in at an angle to push the pick for leverage. With my arms out in front of me, I’m off the ground and counting to myself.  
  
One, two, three, four…  
  
The rotation is too short and I find my whole body thudding against the ice. Hard.  
Biting my lower lip, I pull my cheek from melting onto the icy surface.   
  
“Are you all right, Yuuri?” He calls out my name in concern and confusion as he quickly skates over, but I only half hear him.   
  
Pushing on the icy ground, I suddenly lift one hand up in my coach’s direction. “Just STOP.”   
  
Surprised, Viktor takes a step back and watches me motionlessly, not being able to do anything.   
  
My lower lip quivers as I struggle to simply breathe, keeping my tangled heart in its cage. I stand up and look straight into his eyes. “I’m not like you.”   
  
Every single day, this frustration scrapes away at me from knowing that.  
  
“I know you’re-“  
“Viktor, it’ll take longer than you think for me to become what we both want.” My open palms face upwards before the brief second that I clench them as hard as I can. I can’t seem to stop myself from quivering.   
Slightly annoyed, he eyes my fists. “I thought you were more confident now that-”  
I interrupt while shaking my head, “It’s not just my confidence, Viktor. Things come so easily for you. You don’t understand it because you’re naturally talented. You know the exact split-second to push the tip of your skates for your jump. Or where to start your spin and where on the grid you’ll end up. Not everyone thinks the way you do. “  
  
“Why are you still so mentally weak?” He snaps back defensively, eyeing me coldly.   
“Maybe you have to ask Yakov why you’re here with me,” I retort back. My chest feels heavier and heavier as the seconds pass.  
“What does he have to do with any of this?”  
“Maybe he can tell you to stop being in denial. You used me as your excuse to leave when you couldn’t take the pressure, Viktor!”   
“Say that when you’ve surpassed my records-“  
SLAP!  
  
“Why do you always use that against me?” my voice cracks.  
  
Holding up my stinging hand, I gulp as he stands there staring at me numbly.  
  
Tears stream down my face before I felt them coming.   
This hurt more than all the times I’ve slammed my already swelling body into the ice, than the insults people throw at me for being with you…  
  
…than being told I’m not worthy so you’d finally leave me.  
  
“Yu-“ As he reaches out for me, I take my belongings and bolt out of the rink.   
  
**+/+/+/+/+/+/+/**  
  
  
  
Running out the rink with my duffel bag, I brush the droplets of water from my face and blow my nose. Then, I look at my phone, glimpsing at the time. “I probably shouldn’t call them.”  
  
It’s not the first time I’ve been away from my family, but I still miss them. At least in America, I could talk to Phichit to distract me or buy something that resembles something sold in Tokyo. Over here, I can’t just casually go to a store and buy a snack like that. It’s my comfort default, but I never told anyone about it. Not even Viktor.  
  
It feels like I’ve started all over. The language, the customs…everything. I only know the basics of etiquette and simple words from tournaments, but now more than ever, I rely too much on Viktor.   
  
Add to the fact that I understand what he’s telling me, but I can’t get my body to achieve it fast enough grates on my own nerves. Hearing him sigh makes my heart ache, like he’s starting to regret not only teaching me, but me all together.  
  
How many months have I lived here with him in St. Petersburg and I’m still no closer to his level than when I first kissed that television screen?  
  
I stop and hold onto the blue railing, watching the river as it’s flowing slowly in front of me. A small smile comes to my face. “Ah, I would be standing on this bridge.”  
It’s the closest thing that reminds me of Hasetsu.  
  
 _/”Yuuri-kun~!” Yu-chan called out to me, trying to run across the bridge with Takeshi right after her.  
  
“Yes?” I turned around and adjusted my glasses. Was the Madonna of the Ice Castle really chasing after me?  
“Here,” she handed me a teal blue protection charm from our local shrine. “So that you’ll be safe. And finally meet Viktor.”  
“Thank you,” I shyly said, holding it up before putting it into my pocket.  
Takeshi nodded his head and gave me a fist bump. “I know we already said goodbye, but…don’t forget to write, all right?”  
I smiled back and nodded. “Yes. Of course.”  
  
Waving goodbye while walking away, I tried to keep my tears from falling.  
  
“Yuuri, good luck! Don’t forget we’re all with you!”   
“I know!” I laughed while briefly turning around to glance at them again.  
  
But what I didn’t expect was that she would yell, “Don’t think too much! You’re awesome, Yuuri-kun! Tell Viktor how much you love him!”  
  
It was Yu-chan that would end up crying on the bridge for me while waving until I was out of view. I held onto that charm in my pocket with all my hope inside of it./  
_  
“Thank goodness you were here!”   
I turn my head to the left to find Viktor holding his knees, huffing and puffing. Unexpectedly, it makes me chuckle to see him like that. He’s a god on the ice, but under the afternoon sun, he acts like an old man.  
“Where else would I be? I haven’t explored enough to know where to hide.”   
  
I tilt my head to one side, watching him catch his breath and take my face in between his warm hands. Giving me a gentle, serious expression, he says, “I’m sorry, Yuuri. It isn’t that I don’t believe in you.”  
  
Viktor searches deeply into my face. I continue to keep my mouth shut, and close my eyes for a bit to feel his fingers against my cheeks.  
  
I know you love me, but I’m starting to doubt if I’m enough for you Viktor.  
  
Opening my eyes, his fingertips begin to become hotter against my skin.  
“I didn’t mean to say those things to you.”  
I nod and reassure him, “I know.”   
  
After living with you for a while, I understand that’s the shield you use to keep your distance from people. And my insecurities eat off it to protect myself too. It isn’t all your fault.  
  
“To tell the truth, I don’t understand.” Letting go, his gaze wanders to the steel ground.  
“Of course you don’t.” I turn away from him to hold onto the bridge once more. Pushing onto it for support, I look at the cornflower-colored sky with not even a cloud in sight. “When you learn something, it’s just a matter of perfecting it. For me, I have to first see it, get used to doing it, hope that it will gel with me after a while, and then I can perfect it. You can skip all that stuff in between because you get things.”  
“That’s not true.” He sighs and hugs my shoulders from behind.  
  
Does he not understand what a true genius he is?   
  
“Yes it is!” I face him once again, but he refuses to let me go, his fingertips now touching the nape of my neck. “I hadn’t won any international titles until you came along. I thought that if I…”  
“If you what?”  
“I thought that if I came to the international level, you’d finally acknowledge me.”  
  
That you’d see me as your rival.   
  
“I do acknowledge you, but why is that so important? Most people just say they want to beat me. Or they threaten me with one thing or another.”  
Slowly, I unknot his fingers and step back.   
  
“Do you know why I’ve worked so hard to get here?”  
He blinks at me but couldn’t utter a word in response.  
“I’ve skated all these years to meet you.” Again, the tears come to my eyes, ready to fall with a blink. “I just wanted you to know I existed.”  
  
Like a flipbook, single moments of my life pass quickly in front of me, but I can’t catch all these memories. Over and over, whether or not you’re aware of it, you are there, Viktor.  
  
I love you so much, but looking at you right now as you’re looking at me, I realize…  
…I need you more than you need me.  
  
More bewildered than ever, he questions, “Why must it be me?”   
“It can only be you.”   
  
That performance in Saitama Arena plays before my eyes. The camera pointed at the angle of his chin where I could fully see his Adam’s apple. Long silver hair flowed with the air as he winked his eye to the audience before bending his knee, perfect for the pick to dig into the ice. He’s wearing the very outfit he’d given me to perform my current program.   
  
I blink and the tears spill out. Tippy-toeing to kiss his forehead, I caress my knuckles lightly on his red cheek when my feet are again flat on the ground. “I’m sorry, Viktor.”  
  
Maybe I put too many expectations on you because deep inside, you’re still my idol.   
  
Quietly, I walk away and feel him watching my back as I did so.  
  
 **+/+/+/+/+/+/+/**  
  
When I slip the key into the apartment lock, I’m so nervous on how I’ll respond to Maccachin and Viktor that I take a second longer before pushing the door in. Nothing but silence greets me. Not even the scratching of pads along the floor is heard anywhere.  
  
Out of habit, I still take my shoes off and place them to one side. Putting the bag down, I lean my back on the door. Looking in front of me, I see the bright living room with the woven, cream-colored couch in back of a large box of a dark-brown table with a single rose at its center, shells from Hasetsu’s beach around it. To my left, the plasma television hangs on the white wall with shelves that have a blu-ray player, a videogame console, and rows upon rows of dvds: His performances, recordings of his practices, loads of Maccachin’s videos (from the time he smiled as a puppy in his hands until now), and research materials (competitors, his idols, etc.) Then there’s his Japanese movie collection which is a completely different thing all together.  
  
I have no appetite at all after today’s events and I’m mad at myself for taking my stress out on him.   
My days are filled with going to language school, taking ballet, choreography in addition to practices inside and outside the rink, my exercise regimen, talking to Maccachin every night, cooking meals every other day, studying about how to improve my skating and Russian, emailing others…the days are so full that actually, practice with Viktor is sometimes the only time we spend together. He coaches me, does his own practices after mine, exercises at different times, and walks Maccachin in the morning. He also has to fit in interviews, television appearances as well as events to promote skating, and other ventures that have nothing to do with me. I watch him fit it all in his schedule, but I still can’t believe one person can do it all and still smile when he lies next to me at night.  
  
Opening the sliding door of the balcony, I step out and watch another river. Taking out wireless earbuds from my pocket, I put them in my ears and then search for a song to listen to.   
  
The cool breeze touches my body and I close my eyes.   
  
“Tonight I'm feelin’ down   
My heart is full of passion   
I need you in my life   
I'll so wait for you   
  
Suddenly, all my troubles seem so far away   
For a single day, help me stop the pain   
  
Just remember please Help Me!  
Feel my body all night long.   
Forever we'll stay together in this paradise.   
Don't forget about Help Me!  
Take my hands and fly away   
Whenever you go, my love   
I'll be by your side   
Please Help Me...”  
  
When I open my eyes, I spot someone who’s sitting on a bench across the river. He’s hugging a familiar curly puff ball. His arms are around Maccachin’s neck, but his head is down. Maccachin licks his face, but he’s refusing to look at the world right now.  
  
Without another thought, I close the balcony door and run down as fast as I can to be by their side.  
  
 **+/+/+/+/+/+/+/**  
  
People are riding bikes, children are dashing down the lane, and some are taking pictures of the flowers along the road. All the while, I’m running beside them like a maniac, but as I get closer to where Viktor and Maccachin are, Viktor is looking up towards our apartment.  
  
My feet stop moving.  
  
I’ve seen him confident, seductive, cute, arrogant, and curious. He has many sides that I have yet to understand and I don’t ask about his past unless he volunteers to tell me, but this is the first time, even when he told me he’d stop being my coach before the Barcelona tournament, that I’ve seen him forlorn. Even while he slept, he looked so peaceful with me.  
  
As I approach them, Maccachin looks at me, but he doesn’t want to leave Viktor. From the way he acts, I know this is not the first time for Maccachin and it makes me feel uneasy.  
  
How many years have you comforted Viktor like this?  
  
  
 **Tsuzuku… / To be continued…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was written very, very slowly. Sudden moments out of nowhere (work, showers, driving, eating) compiled from ripped notebook pages mixed with the multiple drafts and edits upon edits turned into four years. (My first draft says 2016). I personally thought I failed to convey Yuuri’s admiration for Viktor…
> 
> It’s easier for me to see from Viktor’s perspective so I thought I’d challenge myself and try Yuuri this time. It is more soul-searching that I envisioned this fic to be. A one-shot became a multi-chapter, but still in frustration, I couldn’t find what I was looking for.
> 
> Then, I saw Shoma Uno in person. Even there in the ice rink, with a shaking hand, I was writing like mad in a notebook. ^^;;; I couldn’t really explain how I felt at that moment, but I thought that this must be an inkling of the passion I’d been searching for. And so, I tried again.
> 
> Love,  
> Yui


	3. Part 2 / Viktor – that person and who I am don’t always coincide.

**Disclaimer – Yuuri on Ice belongs to Kubo and Yamamoto-sensei. And MAPPA!  
**  
  
“Maccachin, he’s starting to hate me.”  
  
I pat his head while looking up to our apartment. Closing my eyes for a moment, I replay his tears at the skating rink, my heart shattering as he turned away from me.  
  
Whenever he needs me to understand, I end up acting aloof, trying to protect myself and stay the person he looks up to. But I don’t know what to think at those times. I don’t know what he wants me to do for him. He’s struggling to see himself and here I am, showing him nothing of myself.  
  
I’ve been in his house and his family welcomed me, as if we’d known each other all our lives. They don’t question our relationship. I even carry the small mini wind chime replica his mother gave me in my wallet.  
  
Yet I brought him to my homeland, but never showed him anything about my life. Just the skating part. Even then, I’m jealous of his talent and can’t let go of my pride when it comes to it.  
  
He’s starting to see all the holes I never wanted the world to see.  
  
“Hi,” I hear Yuuri greet us, sitting down on the other end of the bench. It is just enough space that Maccachin lifts up a paw to his knee and he starts to chuckle, scratching the bottom of his chin.  
  
Yuuri’s laughter always brightens my mood, even now.  
  
Maccachin starts to lick his hands and then wriggles himself away from me to jump up a little and hug his shoulders.  
“Hello back, Maccachin.” Yuuri laughs again and hugs him back.  
  
Despite everything, I end up smiling at them.  
  
I am so happy Maccachin loves him. It’s times like these that I’m glad I chose the both of them, but seeing them like this, I have to wonder if it’s the other way around…  
  
“Ruff!” My baby poodle goes away to run around a few feet away from us, looking back at us for what we’re doing.  
  
Always the worrywart, aren’t you, Maccachin?  
  
I turn to look at him. “Yuuri, I-“  
He shakes his head at me. “I’m sorry for slapping you. For running out on you twice today. For being a jerk and screaming out my frustrations at you.”  
Scooting over a little closer to my open palm on the bench, he puts his hand over mine and squeezes it tightly.  
  
I sigh and pull his shoulder so that his cheek rests on my shoulder. Holding his waist closer, our heads touch one another. “You don’t have to apologize to me.”  
“But-“  
“I believe in you more than anyone in this world. So I know you would never hurt me on purpose.”  
  
Unlike me…  
  
He peers at my red cheek guiltily, but I bring his hand over to touch it. Wincing slightly, I stare straight at him. “You have more confidence in me than I’ve ever had in myself. Even the way you skate surpasses mine and it makes me envious.”  
  
How can I ever get you to believe my words, Yuuri? To get you to see what you’ve overlooked in yourself?  
  
Not waiting for a response, I carefully put his hand down onto his lap and watch Maccachin frolicking around the grass, tail wagging like a young pup. All the while, Yuuri is looking at my profile in disbelief.  
  
This time my fur child comes back, standing to tap his paws on my chest and looking into his father’s eyes. Then he runs around again as I stand up. Putting my hands into my pant pockets, I nervously roll back and forth on the balls of my feet. “So you were right. I was running away from everything because we’re the same Yuuri.”  
  
I gaze up into the twilight sky, bright lavender trickling from one side, ready to engulf the orange. It’s not too long until the sun goes to rest for tomorrow. The trees rustle against the gentle wind and the smell of grass and river mix together.  
“Yakov is my friend. My father. My coach. He took me in, polished me, and pushed me until my whole body could break. The expectations I had for myself were nothing next to his for me. I aimed to be the best in my area, he always told me that I could hold the world in the palm of my hands.” Taking a deep breath, I stand there on the grass, holding onto the seams of my pockets. “Do you know what honor and pressure that is coming from the most famous coach in this sport? Outside, I smiled. Inside, I was petrified. You win tournaments and go on many interviews to keep yourself relevant. But in the midst of everything, you’re wondering how far you’ll last. Is my body up for it? There were days I just sat in my apartment after practice, regretting my life. No real friends and a distant family.  
“You told yourself that you’d finally be happy when you reach the top. And when you finally do, where do you go from there? Do you repeat what you’ve been doing? Where is the next challenge?  
“Years go by and you wonder in the middle of all this chaos of running around, keeping your weight reasonable, trying to keep your body from being too broken, maintaining your placement as long as you can…where do I fit into all of this?”  
  
“I never knew...” Yuuri looks around, bewildered by what I’ve told him.  
I take another long big breath and take his hand, brushing my lips on his knuckles before intertwining our fingers together. Calling Maccachin over to lead the way, we head back to the apartment together.  
  
“When did that all change?”  
  
Ah, you can be so oblivious sometimes, my love.  
  
I start to laugh as I take a sly glimpse at him. “Don’t you know?”  
“When I got drunk at the banquet?” His face starts to blush, embarrassment coloring his cheeks the more he lists his ‘mistakes’. “The video?”  
  
At least you know that it’s related to you.  
  
I shake my head. “Before then. You were a rookie. I was passing and saw you practicing, just like you are now. You kept mumbling to yourself while crying and falling. I was about to approach you to ask what was wrong, but when you thought no one was listening, you said, ‘The day he acknowledges me is when I’ve reached my dream…but when will I ever be on the same podium as him?’ I stood there wondering who you were talking about until you said something like, ‘Stupid tv…why does it have to be Viktor?’  
“I didn’t understand what I had to do with a tv since there was no tv in the room. But I was quite intrigued that this cute teenager was probably talking about me. Then I got unreasonably jealous over my television personality because I know that person and who I am don’t always coincide.”  
  
Yuuri stops walking with a new shade of crimson that I’ve never seen before. "I can’t believe you heard that…”  
I stop along with him and peer closer into his face. “What’s wrong?”  
  
His mouth open and closes, wanting to answer, but peeks at me and clams right up. His ears are now painted in red too.  
  
It’s so adorable that I want to tease him, but I stand there patiently, enjoying what I’m seeing before me.  
He shakes his head and pulls me along. “N-never mind.”  
  
**+/+/+/+/+/+/+/**  
  
Arriving home, I immediately go to the kitchen so that I can take out some meat from the fridge and mix it in with Maccachin’s dinner before going to take my shower. Yuuri puts his bag away and opens the fridge for some water.  
  
He squats down to run his fingers through Maccachin’s fur as I go take a shower.  
  
While taking off my clothes, I watch my reflection on the mirror before sighing. Then, I turn on the water and step into the tub, warm water running down my face as I pull the curtain.  
  
Sometimes, I envy Maccachin. I wish Yuuri would do that with me. I thought that if we’d live together as a couple, he’d become more open with me. But there are times that I think he was more forward in Hasetsu than he is here, like he’s subconsciously pushing me away for one reason or another.  
  
I sigh again while rinsing my hair.  
  
Man, I wish he’d take a shower with me…  
  
I look down at my feet before turning off the water, my hair dripping to the tile floor.  
  
**+/+/+/+/+/+/+/**  
  
Yuuri’s on the rug as I come into the living room. Maccachin is lying by his feet, still being patted on the back. I’m about to ask what he’s watching when I see that he’s looking at the performance where I’m wearing his Eros outfit. Putting my hand over my mouth to cover the smirking, I finally notice that he’s watching without subtitles.  
“I have another copy if you need a translation.”  
“I’m studying Russian and your technique, so that’s all right.” He flashes me a bashful smile and points an index finger to his head. “I remember the subtitles in here.”  
“How?”  
“I always bought both versions of your dvds. Ahahahahahaha…” Running his fingers through his hair nervously, he slowly gets up to pause the dvd. “I think I better take my shower now.”  
“Okay.” Grinning, I shake my head and go into the kitchen. But when he’s out of sight, I bite the knuckle over my index finger.  
  
Why is he so scrumptious?!  
  
I take out shrimp, flour, panko, and egg from the cupboard reserved for the boxes from Yuuri’s parents. I am so thankful they send him care packages and begin to cook while thinking how can I tell him more about myself.  
  
Maybe that will make him more comfortable with me and ease his mind?  
But it is not something I like diving into. I hate thinking about it.  
**  
+/+/+/+/+/+/+/**  
  
And here is another case of Dr. Katsuki and Mr. Eros.  
  
Our evening routine consists of studying and emailing his parents (Yuuri) and answering emails of every nature (me) while trying to get to bed as early as we can. But there are times he comes to my office and hugs my shoulders, asking me to pronounce a word or translate it. He’ll hold the paper in his hands while we both look at it and honestly, it’s distracting. I don’t mind him coming, but why does he tease me so?  
  
Like now.  
  
I am watching clips of my favorite skater’s techniques and the way their coach instructs. It’s from Yakov’s collection, but ironically, I’m only on the fifth cd while there are twenty-one of them. That’s not even the complete collection. These are just his personal videos he converted into disc form. In other words, he’d kill me if I even scratched them. She was one of his favorite students.  
  
Yuuri lies down next to me to watch, but soon he’s fallen asleep. And when he stretches out his legs, they land over my thighs. It’s hard to concentrate on the dvd when he’s become temptation incarnate.  
  
You’re really trying my limits of self-restraint.  
  
My eyes wander along the curves of his body and I breathe deeply.  
  
His t-shirt hem’s begging to be lifted. What does he think I am?! Made of stone with his shorts and those strong thighs staring at me asking to be caressed?  
  
Then he adjusts himself to turn to one side. He raises his left arm up with his glasses a bit askew, the t-shirt raising higher.  
  
Every time this happens, I just want to molest him. But something inside me says to respect his space.  
  
Lifting up his right index finger to my mouth, I lightly suck on it before holding him in my arms. For a few minutes as the dvd plays, the wind from the balcony goes through our apartment. I kiss his forehead and close my eyes, resting my chin on his shoulder while running my fingers up and down his spine.  
My heart pounds against his chest while he sleeps so guilelessly.  
  
You always wonder if you’re worthy, but don’t you know I’m here thinking the same thing?  
  
I turn off the dvd and carry him all the way to our bed to tuck him in.  
  
Feeling stirred up and with part of my sanity still intact, I leave the bedroom knowing it will be a very long night. So I end up taking another shower and going into my office to make some preparations.  
  
**Tsuzuku… / To be continued…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this multiplied to be more than what I initially thought it would be, but maybe it’s for the best. I’m beginning to think this is forcing me to dive deeper than I wanted.  
> I’ve been writing for a long time, but there are still times that I just stop typing and think the situation’s too sticky. Then I think why did I start writing in the first place…I needed to find a way to find answers and take it out in a positive way. But to get the beautiful, there was so much dirt.
> 
> Again, the one who Chinese puzzles me is Viktor. When I think I’ve seen one thing, Viktor comes out with another layer to peel. And he becomes more complex. But I like those types and that’s why I enjoy him though.
> 
> Ah, Yuuri and Viktor, thanks for letting me find those cute feelings again.
> 
> Love,  
> Yui


	4. Part 3 / Yuuri - to stand side by side with you.

**Disclaimer – Yuri on Ice belongs to Kubo and Yamamoto-sensei. And MAPPA!  
**

Waking up groggily, outside, the sky casually sheds its night hues with the sun peeking through the curtains. Gradients of light embrace the world once more. I look over to read 4:02 am on the clock and turn off the alarm, giving myself five more minutes before getting up.  
  
I’m relieved to feel Viktor’s arm around my waist, holding my fingers in between.  
  
Maybe he’s done this longer than me, but even I can see his exhaustion. I don’t tell him though because he’ll get self-conscious, not to mention that vain part of him that will try everything to keep his face from looking the part. I laugh a bit to myself imagining his reaction if I even dared. After that remark I made about his hair, he never let that one go.  
  
Slowly I turn over and in the haziness, I see him breathing deeply, a complete angel. I place my hands on the natural part in his hair and run my fingers through it, swiping his bangs from his face. I end up playing with them because they look so sexy sliding back down his forehead.  
Then, my index finger lingers right in the middle of the line connecting his lips. My fingertip is 1mm from his teeth and once more, it reminds me that he is real. He isn’t just a picture I’ve gazed at, one of many pasted around the world.   
  
_/When I was thirteen, I was looking at Viktor’s poster on the lower part of my left closet door. It was the one with a black jacket and khaki-colored pants, but I remembered just placing my hand where his heart was, wondering what was there.  
His routines were like parts of a dream come to life, each angle an exquisite story in itself. They made me laugh, cry, envious, and proud all at the same time.  
I’d daydream until my sister called me to eat dinner together./_  
  
But at that moment, I remember _that_ dream. And even if he can’t see me, I give a sideways glance in guilt and instantly, I take my finger away.   
  
I’m about to turn around, trying not to disturb him, when his hand now wraps over my lower back and his leg goes in between both of mine, pulling me close.   
“Yuuri…” he mumbles, his breath on my neck, but I feel the smile on his face even though I can’t see it.  
  
I tense up and bite my lower lip, my heart is beating itself into a frenzy against his chest. Shamefully, I don’t want to pull away from him.   
  
I don’t want us to wake up yet.   
**  
+/+/+/+/+/+/+/**  
  
I clean up my things and go up to Yakov, saying thank you for teaching me while Viktor’s at an interview. He’s leaning on a railing watching Yurio practice on the ice. “Hold your back straighter! One more time!”  
  
Without missing a beat and when Yurio’s out of listening range, Yakov says, “Vitya…he’s a handful isn’t he?”  
As gruff as he appears, it clearly exudes how proud he is of Viktor though he wouldn’t ever tell him in his presence.  
“No. He’s much more of a genius than I thought,” I reply with my eyes watching Yuri about to attempt a quad lutz.  
“And after that?” He takes a glimpse of me before watching Yurio again. “Has he become stronger?”  
“He’s always strong.”   
  
With or without me, he’s always had that, hasn’t he?  
  
“Does he say what he wants?”  
“What do you mean? He asks for things all the time.” I shake my head thinking how bratty he can be.  
“When I first met him, he was loud. Always fighting one thing or another with me. And then I realized he was constantly aware of his environment, wanting what others wanted but never saying a word.” He gives a thoughtful expression. “He doesn’t hate silence. He just can’t handle it.”  
  
Watching his profile, he continues, “But in one competition, he stopped to watch you. You know the junior finals a few years back? After that, the expression in his routines totally changed.”  
  
That could have been anything, couldn’t it? No way-  
  
“Says he wanted to learn Japanese and religiously kept up with it, after how many times we fought over every single thing from the moment we became a team.” He takes a sip from a bottle of water next to him. “Never missed one session. He’d attend class even if he had to do them online or prepare his homework in between practices and trips. Even if he was dead tired, he’d keep his notes with him to the point he’d doze off and wake up if they slipped from his fingers. He _needed_ to learn Japanese. Couldn’t imagine for the life of me why…”  
  
A grin spreads across my face and I hug him in gratefulness. Keeping his eyes on Yurio, he pats my shoulder, sending me on my way to language class.  
  
 **+/+/+/+/+/+/+/  
**  
When language class is over, Yurio steps right in front of me as soon as I get out of the building.  
“Psst! Katsudon! C’mere.” Yuri cups his mouth to whisper into my ear. “Are you okay?”  
“I’m fine? But why are you here?”  
  
Whether it’s here or Japan, how do you always seem to find me?  
  
He clears his throat as he gestures for me to follow him. “I heard about yesterday.”  
“Ohh…I guess I’m okay.” But I think about Viktor’s cheek and wonder how the interview’s going.   
“That face says otherwise. Come on, you’re going with me.”  
“Don’t you have to go to ballet class right now?”  
“I have some time…” He looks around awkwardly. “…if you need to talk. But I’ve only got an hour, so make it snappy.”  
  
Weren’t you the one inviting me? You are so funny sometimes…  
  
I start to chuckle. “I’ll take you up on your offer then.”  
  
We end up at a café, seated next to a window facing the street. The walls are blue-green and the tables are white oak ones. The dining chairs have spindle backs and after ordering (he seems to be familiar with the menu), he gives me a face to resume where we left off.  
I sigh, not knowing where to begin.  
  
“How long have you known Viktor?”  
“What does that have to do with anything?”  
“I mean how can you talk to him so easily?”  
“Haah?” Yurio drums his fingers on the table. “You’re his fiancé. What the hell are you asking me for? Does this really have to do with what happened yesterday?”  
“I…” I take a deep breath, not really believing what I’m about to say. “…think I need a break.”  
His jaw drops.  
“I think he made a mistake choosing to bring me here.” I lift up the ring to eye-level and rotate my wrist to look it over. After a few seconds, I put my hand down.   
“Back up there, Katsudon.” He blinks his eyes at me incredulously, grabbing the table for support. “Are you serious about this? Are you breaking up?!”  
“Huh?” I frantically wave my hands in between us. “No no no! Not breaking up. But I need a short break or at least, a change in strategy? It’s crossed my mind lately.”  
“Are you repeating what happened back at Hasetsu?”  
I look down at my lap and shake my head. “Let me ask you. Seriously, how long have you been watching Viktor skate?”  
“All my life. But isn’t that like everyone we know?”   
Meeting his eyes, I fold my hands on top of one another. “Me too. I’ve been watching since he debuted. I followed all his programs and I can do any of his routines.”  
His eyebrow rises in disbelief. “All of them? Just like the video that went viral?”  
“Yes.” I nod, feeling my cheeks betray me with their honesty. “I can even tell you what second the jumps are down to what outfit he wore for each performance at each competition.”  
“And?” His face is somewhere in between impressed and embarrassed for me.   
“I wanted to figure him out by searching through them all. But there’s something I can’t quite grasp.” The engagement ring catches my eyes with its gleam. Lifting my gaze, I watch Yurio again. “There are times that I can’t get through to him. He doesn’t understand how easy it is for him to dissect everything and I can’t help but wonder if I’ll really surpass his level.”  
“That’s messed up. Of course, you have to! Isn’t that our pact?”  
“Sometimes, I’m not so sure. You’re advancing but I’m still lacking.”  
“So you want to run away? You better not.”  
“I don’t think I’m…”  
  
Worthy of him or you.   
He doesn’t take me seriously as his rival and you’re waiting for a rematch. I’m stuck in the middle not really knowing how to proceed, but crawling forward at a snail’s pace, and time is running so quickly…  
  
At that moment, one waiter politely hands us our coffee.  
  
Drinking his latte, Yuri gives me a scathing look. “I had to chase that man down so that he’d train me. And all he ever talked about was your footwork when we were competing. You’re the first person he’s openly gone up and talked to. Everyone else goes up to him so that he’d notice them.”  
The cappuccino cup is touching my lip but I put it down onto the table. “What?”  
“When you were on the ice, he’d watch you on the monitor. In fact, you were the only one he’d comment on. Other than that, he was always off in his own world. Or at least, he never shares what he’s really thinking. Never noticed that right?”  
“How…what?” I take a large sip of my coffee.   
  
Both Coach Yakov and Yurio are telling me things, but I keep protesting against them. I don’t know how to process what they’ve revealed to me.  
  
“When we were in our room about to leave one competition, Viktor commented, ‘Look how intricate his steps are along with the music. Amazing.’ I couldn’t believe he said that aloud to me. It was the first time he said anything about anyone. He smiles at the world, but he also keeps to himself.”   
“But what about all his selfies? His promos? His commercials?”  
“When has he ever talked about himself personally? And not his skating?”  
“Come to think of it, I have all his articles and dvds…but you’re right.”  
He scratches through his hair in vexation. “You are so stupid, Katsudon, I can’t listen to any more of this. Both of you act so dumb for each other.”  
“Yurio…” Sighing, my heart gets caught in my throat for a few seconds. “I feel dumb because I’m his fiancé. I’m supposed to know him, but I can’t bridge everything.”  
  
I intertwine my fingers and lift them up while looking through the holes and into his astonished face. “I can’t find the parts that connect his skating self and the one that Maccachin knows. He hasn’t shown me that part yet and I don’t know why.”  
Putting my hands down, Yurio gives a heated sigh.  
  
“So that’s why you have no idea why he chose you and you still want him to be your idol too?” He slaps his hands on his thighs and looks from side to side. His lips are a straight irritated line. Yurio drinks the rest of his cup in a rushed manner and gets up, pressing his fingers on the table while leaning over towards me. “Have you ever wondered if you are the part that connects everything? It isn’t Viktor pushing you away. You just can’t believe he’s accepted you.”  
  
Giving me a disappointed glance, I gasp at seeing the hurt in between his eyes.  
  
I watch as he pays his part of the bill at the front. The door is closing and I finish my cappuccino to find the cashier telling me he paid for mine too.  
  
Going out to the street, I chase after him.  
“Yurio!”  
  
I know. You’d gone to all that trouble to get Viktor’s attention and he’d come to me instead. And here I am slapping it in your face, acting like I don’t want it.  
  
“What?!” he snaps with his back towards me.  
“Help me to find a way then.”  
“Figure out on your own what you really want!”  
“I want him to see me as his rival.”  
  
I want to believe your words.  
  
“Are you sure?” He stops walking at the beginning of the bridge, waiting for me. “You say it like you don’t mean it.”  
“No…” Clenching my fists, I shout, “I _am_ his rival!”  
“Why?”  
I stop right behind him and gulp. “Because I hate to lose. To you or him.”   
  
I don’t want to always be watching your backs, walking behind you. I want to stand side by side with you.   
  
_/The vulnerable Yurio at the waterfall as I pulled his hand to walk away and he nodded complacently…  
Viktor leaning down and embracing Maccachin’s neck…/_  
  
He then turns around to smugly peer at me and flicks my forehead. “That’s the Katsudon I know.”  
I give him a shy smile in response. “You know, even if you have a rotten mouth, you always help me.”  
“I’ve been followed since I was little because of my face or my talent. You learn early on who you can trust and who you can’t just by instinct.” He pokes my forehead playfully. “It’s easy to see which side of the fence you’re on.”  
  
Putting his hand down, we both walk side by side across the bridge. I start messing around with his hair, humbled by his words.   
“Hey!”  
“No wonder you harassed me in the bathroom.”  
“I’m not going to apologi-“  
“Thank you, Yurio.”  
Yurio’s eyes widen.   
“You made me want to come back and crush you. Deep inside, I absolutely hate to lose.”  
Lifting up his chin, he smirks at me. “You’re pretty tough, Katsudon.”  
“You mean that?”   
“Yeah…”  
Wrapping my arms around him happily, he protests by pushing me away. “Why do you always have to be so embarrassing! And just when I thought you were being cool! Geez, let go!”  
  
He lightly slaps me upside the head and I step back to him pouting with pink cheeks.   
“Hey Yurio?”  
“What? There’s more?”  
“Will you help me make a routine to compete against Viktor’s? Even if it's just something for him to watch?”  
“Did you say crush the competition?” he jokes. “Remember our pact? I’d help in anything to wipe that smirk off his face.”  
We give each other a fist bump, smiling at one another.   
“You guys are really in love with one another...”  
  
He says this, but Otabek’s ringtone goes off in his pocket and he eyes me.  
  
“We’re just friends. His words, not mine,” he mouths before answering the phone.   
“Uh huh…”  
  
You say that but he’s the only one with his own special ringtone, right?  
  
  
 **Tsuzuku… / To be continued…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to write Yurio and Yakov somewhere in this fic. And Yurio is just ABSOLUTELY adorable! Hee hee hee…I love punks who bite but you know they’re cuddly inside so the more you’re enticed to hug them!
> 
> Love,  
> Yui


	5. Part 4 / Viktor – waiting a long time for you.

**Disclaimer – Yuri on Ice belongs to Kubo and Yamamoto-sensei. And MAPPA!  
**  
  
With both hands pushing onto the marbled counter, I am grateful for a few minutes of privacy. Staring into the sink, my bangs block the bathroom mirror from view.  
  
I hate it when it’s completely silent because I’m forced to hear my own thoughts. Voices of the past creep back when I least expect them to.   
_  
Get out of this room. I don’t want you here.  
We can’t be friends anymore.   
You’re just a show off with money.   
Stalker.  
Narcissist.  
  
You no longer own yourself. Remember that._  
  
At least while I skate, the blades create a melody and an imprint into the ice. When at home, Maccachin’s rustling paws on the floor comfort me along with Yuuri’s breathing just being next to me. For me, that is more than enough.  
  
Then, why do you keep adding more obstacles for me to conquer?   
  
I feel Yuuri’s unspoken words prick at me, but my throat closes up. It’s because of this. All the scattered things residing in my mind that I don’t think can be formed into words. Though without them, we wouldn’t be together now.  
  
Bystanders see the packaged form of all my efforts, claiming luck and natural talent, but anyone on this side knows better. They only witness the moments of triumphs. All the hardships, decisions, and sacrifices to be called a “genius” have been filtered out, cut from the script or lines changed altogether.  
  
However, I’ve never forgotten the path I took to get here.  
  
Knock knock knock.  
“Mr. Nikiforov, we’ll begin in five minutes.”  
“Thank you.”  
  
Taking a few deep breaths, I lift my head and try to make the ends of my mouth curve. I swipe the phone lying to my right. Yuuri’s and Maccachin’s picture appear on my home screen. Maccachin’s standing. From behind, Yuuri’s holding up Maccachin’s paws towards me, but Maccachin’s licking his face as he’s giggling into the photo.   
We took it in Tokyo. I reserved a whole amusement park for an evening date with Yuuri before we moved here.  
  
Calming myself, I smile as best as I can and walk out the bathroom perfectly composed.  
  
I’m led down the hallway and into another hotel room with gentle lighting and a pink-rose colored couch. My interviewer, Ms. Morales is sitting next to it in a matching armchair. The sheer lining of the curtains pours into the room and in a strange way, the atmosphere seems cozy.   
  
“Good morning,” I greet while shaking everyone’s hands. “Thank you very much for inviting me today.”  
“No, thank you for letting us have the honor of interviewing you even though we know you’re very busy. We weren’t sure if you would be interested.”  
“You love skating, right? That is all that matters.”  
  
Sitting on the couch cross-legged, she offers me water with a smile and I drink it before settling down into my place. Mr. Edwards adjusts the camera to capture us in the best possible angle. When that’s done, the director Ms. Anderson motions that we will begin.  
  
Ms. Morales then smiles and enthusiastically introduces the show. “Good morning, sports fans! We’re coming to you live from St. Petersburg. Can anyone guess who is our surprise guest for today?”  
  
The monitor shows my shadowed figure with a question mark over my face, but I can feel that my clothes already give me away. The blocker dissipates, showing my grinning face while waving my hands energetically at the camera. “доброе утро! I am very happy to be with you today!”  
  
She claps and holds her palms out towards me. “Yes! Today we have none other than ice skating’s Five-Time World Champion Nikiforov Viktor!”   
“I have a few questions for today, so why don’t we get started?”   
I nod my head. “Alright.”  
The teleprompter highlights the first question. “After some months off from skating yourself, how do you feel about the upcoming competitions, especially the Grand Prix starting in October?”  
“I am more invigorated than ever. Being a first time coach, but also putting myself as a competitor too. It encompasses more than I thought it would be, but at the same time, I’m enjoying this new challenge.”  
“And how has it been on the other side, waiting at the Kiss and Cry?”  
“I’m overcome with emotion.” I smile, looking down at the carpet and then deeply at Ms. Morales. I can’t look through the lens as I see Yuuri’s multiple facial expressions before me. “I was always on the receiving end with Coach Yakov. Now I know how much he indulged me even though we fought so much because I’d rebel. But it was important for my growth.”  
Covering my mouth, I start to chuckle a bit.  
  
“What exactly have you learned?”  
“As I watch Yuuri, I see where I myself need to improve. He is a very dedicated student. He probably loves the ice as much, if not more than me.”  
“Going back to your last competition before you became a coach, did you think that was the pinnacle of your career?” She holds her chin and rests her elbow on the small table next to her.  
“No.” I shake my head. “There are other stories to tell. What everyone sees are the finished products, but years go into a single idea as it expands. There are many things I am not satisfied with. The performances are never perfect, just the best I can to at that moment in time. I don’t like regret either.”  
“Going on that, there was a Grand Prix in Japan 20-- where you had injured your ankle, but you still came back two months later after resting in order to compete. How were you able to recover so quickly?”  
The bittersweet memories pass quickly through me but I try not to show it on my face. “You learn to ignore the pain. There are people who count on you and you cannot let them down. Fans write to me, but there are letters that words cannot fully describe, like they live vicariously through me. Those are the people I skate for.”  
  
Ms. Morales brushes her bangs behind her ear, a bit astounded my expression, whatever it is. She glances at the teleprompter and takes a small sip of water from her cup. “Excuse me for jumping back at forth, but now I’d like to ask you about your student, Katsuki Yuuri.”  
“Yes?”  
“You suddenly changed from competitor to coach. Why did you think it was important to make this transition so early, almost at the peak of your form, your career?”  
Contemplating, I look to my right side and then straight into her eyes. She gasps softly as I tilt my head with a smile that makes my mouth ache, the warmth bursting from my heart at the amusing memory. “Because he asked me to.”  
“Really?”  
I chuckle, covering my mouth and nodding. “Yes.”  
“You soon moved after the release of that viral video of him dancing to ‘Stay Close To Me’. Weren’t you influenced from this?”  
“That video…” My vision is flustered, not knowing how to pose all my mixed feelings into words. “It was a factor in my decision. But you watched it, didn’t you?”  
“Yes, of course!”  
“To me, it was magic.”  
“Magic?” Shocked, she questions, “But you were the one who created everything for this piece. It was what won you your fifth consecutive title.”  
“Many people do the same music. It is part of the profession,” I reply matter-of-factly.  
“Wasn’t he just following your cue since the routines are identical?”  
By this point, my stomach turns over as I try to keep my feelings in check under the lens. Placidly I smile with my response, repressing an overly acidic tone.   
  
“No, they are _completely_ different.”  
  
After several more questions, Ms. Morales closes our segment.  
  
When I get up from the couch, she approaches me. “I’m sorry if I offended you in some way.”  
Feigning innocence, I let the matter pass. “Did you?”  
Whatever she is thinking is on the tip of her tongue, but she shakes her head. “Never mind.”  
  
We thank each other once more and I leave taking pictures and giving my autograph along with a selfie for my fans.  
  
With a sigh of relief, I am finally able to step out of the hotel, but glance back at the room. At that moment I walk forward, I accidentally see my reflected self looking back at me, the one with thin lips and severe eyes.   
  
She’d struck a string that I wasn’t willing to play.   
  
They underestimate Yuuri. Do you think I’d give up my whole life and just bet it on an unknown who skated my routine on the internet? There are so many videos online just for that alone!  
For more than a decade, you do _not_ know that I’ve been waiting for him and another!   
  
But as much as I love you Yuuri, I am not willing to give my place to you. With every bone of my body, no one will take this from me as long as I can hold it.  
  
 **+/+/+/+/+/+/+/**  
  
Taking a taxi home, I finally get back to the apartment. I kneel to the floor to a Maccachin who licks my face. He starts to whine while watching me.  
“It’s nothing.”  
  
I give him his lunch and we eat together for a few minutes. Afterwards, I change into a red shirt and black running pants along with a light jacket. Putting on my sunglasses and sneakers at the door and carrying my duffel bag over my shoulder, I give him a flying kiss before jogging to my next destination.   
  
It is a few kilometers away. In between, I stop to stretch and then resume running until I get into a familiar lane of connected buildings. I walk up the stairs all the way to the third floor and insert the key to open the door. Turning on the lights, I step in and close the door, taking in an elongated breath of air.   
This is a space that both Yakov and I share. It’s a place that offers me solace and sometimes acts as my hideaway: A simple studio with two walls of mirrors with a bar attached and golden floor, smooth yet durable. It is nothing like the ballet school that Yurio goes to under Yakov’s ex-wife, but I feel more comfortable here.  
  
Going over to one corner of the room, I sit down to take off my shoes and change into my dance socks. Then, walk over to the center of the room and sit down. Spreading out my legs, I again stretch, trying to touch my toes.   
  
_/“You must do this first, Vitya. If you don’t, you will pull a muscle.”  
“This is so boring.” I pouted and looked up into Yakov’s stern face, who is pushing my shoulders so that I can reach my right foot.  
“Say that when you get injured.”  
“Then I’ll become invincible!”  
“Yes, you will be. That’s why you are here.”  
My jaw drops, but I realize I’m watching my own happy face in the mirror in front of me./_  
  
“I really lucked out, didn’t I?” Laughing to myself, I stand up and this time, I squat over and over, even going from one end of the room to the other in small steps.  
  
 _/“Teacher’s favorite,” one classmate remarked as I passed him downstairs.  
“He’ll quit soon. He’s just a beautiful face.”  
  
I am the one he scolds the most out of everyone here, don’t you know?  
  
My eyes follow their backs as they meet their parents while I go to get some food with the money Yakov gave me.  
“Yakov is my family now.”/_  
  
When I am finished, I go to the bar to begin these set of ballet stretches. I grit my teeth, knowing how stiff I am and how pliant I can become.  
  
 _/My ankles and feet hurt, but I bit my lower lip. I tried so hard to hold my breath and keep my tears from falling, but Yakov stood at the corner, the one with the window overlooking the road. “There is no room to cry. Your body is no longer your own. It is the hope for our nation.”  
And I’d feel the burning of my chest, my fighting spirit pushing, temporarily dulling the pain until it sharply made its way back into my consciousness./_  
  
When I’m done, I stand there and point to my figure in the mirror. Without meaning to, I regress to biting my lips from the inside, pressing my teeth into my gums. It used to drive Yakov nuts whenever I did.   
Going to my bag, I take my phone along with a pad and pen, placing them on the floor when I sit down. I search for the song I need and hesitate to press it. It is not an entirely new song, but it is a piece I’ve kept from the start of my senior career. I wasn’t able to use it because I couldn’t bring out its full potential: I was a mess. At the time, my emotions were all over the place and my body was changing.   
Even then, I waved at the crowds as if the performances I gave were created from a magician’s expertise, coming from the ether.   
  
Pressing the screen, I listen along with the song while trying to capture solid poses within the realm of mirrors. The base and guitar blend together, drums beating in sync with my heartbeat.  
  
“I walk to the edge of a cliff  
And look for you in the crowd,  
The rain falling beautifully in chaotic strings  
De-coloring the world back into   
Shades of grey,  
Black and white photographs   
For a canvas on a worldwide show.  
  
How did I end up here?  
This blurry landscape  
Makes my sanity waver.  
Talking to someone in some café,  
You’re smiling as I watch over you  
But you don’t know me.  
You’re not supposed to.  
  
I’ve visited you many times before  
Staring from the windows  
And I can’t hold the knife  
To prick your heart  
To make me human again.  
What did you do to me?  
  
How will you get away now?  
The target’s been set  
Since the time I passed by you  
And you glanced at me like you knew  
What was transpiring.  
I have no more excuses,  
I have to do it  
Before I can’t pull the trigger:  
It’s you or me.  
  
If I close my eyes,  
Take this as your cue  
With the rain shielding your way.  
But as I hold the gun up  
Towards your direction,  
Doves fly overhead.  
You look straight into me  
And smile mysteriously.”  
  
The concept is an assassin who can’t kill his assignment. The costume has already been sketched out, but as the song drifts to its end, I don’t know what to feel. The story is pulling me in separate parts of myself.   
  
“Why was I scared to try this once again? And why attempt this now?”  
  
Putting the song on repeat, I immerse myself and get up. I open my arms looking down diagonally. Spinning, I rotate my body with my hands spread out before me, left going in front of the right while alternating on their way down an invisible line until they reach my stomach, right over my left holding something delicate between my fingers. Gradually, I open my arms, lifting them beside me as I tilt towards the left, my profile facing the audience.   
  
“There. I will insert a jump at this point. I should be at this point on the rink…”  
  
I repeat the song and the movements I’ve outlined inside my head while watching the illusion unfold before me in my reflections. Writing notes in between, the questions start rolling away with their doubts right beside them: Is the image gorgeous enough? Is that really the best my body can do to express this action? You’ve done this move before so what’s something more surprising and new?   
  
Suddenly, I notice the face of my mirrored self.   
  
Not enough. My face doesn’t look blank enough.  
I’m still afraid to let myself go…  
  
The hours flow by very fast that I don’t realize what time it is until the phone rings, bringing me back to this reality. I sit down to see Yuuri’s smiling face flashing at me as I swipe it.  
  
“Hello Viktor?”  
“Yes?”  
“When are you coming home? You’re usually home by now so I was a little worried.”  
“Oh!” I read 7:41pm. “I’m sorry.”  
“I made zaru soba today, so I hope we can eat it together unless you’re still busy?”  
“No, actually this is perfect timing. I’ll come back now. I’ll be back in half an hour. Is that okay?”  
“I’ll be waiting.”  
I kiss the phone. “All right. See you soon.”   
  
The second I’m about to end the call, I hear a kissing sound on his end too. The phone shows “Call Ended” back at me.   
  
Without knowing, he placates the storm that’s started to form inside me.  
  
 **  
+/+/+/+/+/+/+/**  
  
While waiting for me, Yuuri’s taking his bath when I walk through the apartment door. As I squat to kiss Maccachin, I hear Yuuri humming to himself. It echoes all the way to the kitchen as Maccachin drinks some water.   
  
Not even caring about my duffel bag, I venture to the bathroom, knocking on the door.  
“Oh, you’re home!”  
“Can I come in?”  
“Yeah.”  
I sit on the floor as he holds the rim with his arms crossed, grinning at me brightly. “Welcome home.”  
  
Tiredly, I press my forehead onto his arms. “Just for a while. I’m a bit tired.”  
“Viktor?” The water drips on the floor as he opens his arms to hold me, his chin over my head.   
  
Ah, it really is wonderful to have you here.  
  
  
 **+/+/+/+/+/+/+/**  
  
The zaru soba is perfect and I feel a lot better as I lie down on the couch. It was my turn to wash the dishes, but Yuuri insisted that I rest, forbidding me to work on anything else until bedtime.   
  
The sound of water from the kitchen is soothing as I pat Maccachin’s head. He licks my face to let me know it’s time for him to sleep so he huddles in one corner. I don’t know where because he has certain spots, but I’ll check on him later.  
For a few minutes, I look out the balcony, and then place my arm over my eyes.  
  
Soon, Yuuri sits beside me, leaning his left arm on the top of the couch. He scoots himself a bit closer, touching my hip.  
“Are you all right?  
I take my arm away from my face so that I can touch his cheek. “What do you mean?”   
“You didn’t look like yourself.”  
Confused, my eyebrows scrunch together as I place my hand back down on my side.  
“The interview?” He tries to mimic one of my expressions: The perturbed, congenial one.  
I burst out laughing and pull him towards me so that I can hug him. Rubbing the back of his head, I feel the ends of his hair against my palm.  
  
“You’re really so funny, my love.”  
“I’m relieved to hear you laugh.” His voice reverberates over my chest.  
“Why?”  
“You look so tense lately. Not that I don’t help with that, but still…”  
“Did you think it was your fault?”  
He doesn’t say anything.  
I shake my head and snuggle him more.   
  
“I will never regret you.”  
“Why do you sound so sure of that?”   
  
The doubtful tone doesn’t escape my ears.  
  
He slowly pulls himself up and grabs onto the couch, giving me a serious look. I reach up to brush my knuckles down his bangs and down his cheek, stopping to grab his chin. His eyes stare at me intensely.  
  
You never say it, but you look like you’re waiting for me to say that I’ll leave. But I’ve been walking on clouds too. I wonder how long can I be with you anyway?  
  
After all, you might change your mind like in Barcelona...  
That will surely break my heart.  
  
“Because I’ve waited a long time for you. And I’m not giving you back.”  
  
Tears form on his eyelids. Plip plop plipplipplop…  
Silently, they fall onto my face though I try to rub them away with my thumb.  
“I…don’t understand why you want to stay with someone like me.”   
  
Placing his hands on my chest, I grip onto them tightly, never looking away. He takes a deep breath, but his lower lip is quivering. More tears drop as his whole body starts to gently shake, scared to tell me his thoughts.   
“I’ve barely ranked and I’m about to retire without even achieving the one goal I had. You’re right here, but I’m still so far away from you. And then I take out my own anger at myself on you.  
“Now you tell me you’ve been waiting for me. Why?”  
  
Even with all my words, how can I fight your self-doubt?  
  
I bring his hands to my lips, touching the palms before placing them back onto my chest. Holding them more firmly than ever, I reply, “You don’t know yourself yet, Yuuri. And all the charms that drive me absolutely mad.”  
  
He is completely quiet, trying to ingest what I’ve told him, still in shock and disbelief.  
  
“I’ve never wanted anything so much in my whole life as I do you.”  
  
Seconds pass and finally, he gives me a thoughtful look.   
“Me too, Viktor…” Closing his eyes, he leans down to kiss me.   
  
When he’s about to sit back up, I unwrap our hands so that I touch his neck and pull him towards me again, pushing my tongue into his mouth. His hands touch my shoulders for leverage, but I place my left hand on his hips, pressing my thumb into his bone.   
Yuuri’s fingers start to grab the fabric of my shirt in between them as we continue to kiss. Now both of my hands are exploring under his shirt, the firmness of the sides of his stomach to playing with each of his ribs.  
  
Shivering, he gasps for air, looking down at me with a pained look. This only entices me so I lift my head as he leans forward again, kissing even deeper…  
  
Just as he places his chin on my shoulder, I start to lick his neck slowly making my way down. He embraces me, his skin feels like flames on my tongue.   
“Viktor…” His breath becomes faster and faster, gasping into my ear. “I…”  
  
But all of a sudden, his whole body relaxes. I turn my head to see what’s wrong.   
“Yuuri?”  
His eyes are closed because he’s reached his limit: He’s finally boiled over.   
  
While hugging him, a small snore comes from his mouth and I start to laugh, the walls echoing my amusement.   
“This is going to be a very long process, isn’t it?”  
  
  
 **Tsuzuku… / To be continued…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was afraid to write to this chapter. It took me several days to write more than a few sentences because I felt I was going into a part of Viktor I probably didn’t want to open, what I wasn’t prepared for. Then again, that persistent question that caught me since the first time I watched Yuuri on Ice came forward: “Things are so smooth around him, but is it really like that? Does he really take things in stride?” When Viktor looks at the seagulls in Barcelona and then you see the movie preview by the Arctic Sea, it made me wonder even more.
> 
> And hahahahaha…Yuuri overboiling from Viktor overdrive. XDDDDD I love this couple so much. They bring out the worst in a fangirl like me, but then again, that’s more fuel for fanfic-ing.
> 
> Love,  
> Yui


	6. Part 5 / Yuuri – Anything.

**Disclaimer – Yuri on Ice belongs to Kubo and Yamamoto-sensei. And MAPPA!  
  
**  
“Hachoo~!”  
  
Blink…blink blink. I find myself blurrily staring up at the square, bent ceiling light of our bedroom. Squinting, my eyes and brain try to calibrate what time it is according to the dimness.   
  
Why am I even lying in bed when the last thing I remember doing was…Oh Kami-sama.  
  
My skin catches on fire as I turn to my side and curl up into the smallest ball I can possibly be, covering my burning face with my hands and shaking my head from side to side in futile denial. I scrunch up my eyes tightly wishing I could sink into the sheets.  
  
Why am I so embarrassing?! _How_ does a person faint while being kissed by _their own fiancé_?!?!   
  
The sensations return…  
His hands traveling up my body. Melting lips with a tongue that tasted of the apricot he’d just eaten… _Nothing_ resembling the one at the Grand Prix when he surprised me. It felt so good that I was losing myself…Nope nope nope! Don’t think about it or else you’ll faint again! Among other troubles…  
  
Taking my hands away from my face, I open my eyes to look down at my clothes. With a calm breath, I realize that I’ve been changed into that form-fitting tank top I was too shy to wear with navy cotton briefs. With no shorts.  
  
Hmm. Let’s think about this logically. I can only imagine why he had to change my clothes…Did I-   
That’s when the flaming stove becomes a forest blaze inside my body.  
  
Can’t I just jump out the window, swim in the river and shout this all out of my system?! What the hell is wrong with me?!  
  
But then I glance over at the window with the distant lights outside. Viktor’s words sweep through my heart, painting it with warm, intense colors: _“You don’t know yourself yet, Yuuri. And all the charms that drive me absolutely mad.”_  
It enwraps my body almost like a magic spell and the flames steadily simmer down.   
  
_/”You have to rest. Remember what the doctor said?” Yu-chan pleaded while holding my right arm as we stood in the middle of the rink.  
  
It was already 1am, but I refused to leave. I shook my head even though I was clearly seething, the pain of my ankles and toes (whichever by that point I couldn’t tell anymore) throbbing inside my skates.   
“We know you love skating, but you need to properly-“  
“I did rest for a day!”   
“That isn’t enough, Yuuri!” She sighed as she gently gripped both of my arms with concerned eyes, rubbing my forearms with her thumbs.  
“If you had a chance to meet Viktor, would you waste it, Sempai?” The tears about to fall felt raw and hot. Brushing away the water from my eyes, I bent my head forward, making out the traces of my path upon the ice.   
  
My stinging sore body, this gnawing determination, and the hope I clung onto seized every corner of my mind, willing everything to work out when it probably shouldn’t have.   
  
“I want them to accept me into that school. It’s one step closer towards him.” With my hands in fists, I shouted as I looked into her eyes, “No matter what, I have to get to him!”  
  
“I got it.” She finally let my arms go and gave me a solemn nod. Getting out of the rink, she stood at the side. “You better get in then! I’ll be watching from here if you need anything.”  
“Thanks, Yu-chan.”  
  
Holding my hands out, I closed my eyes and wished for the best./_  
  
That’s why I told him I wasn’t weak. Or at least I knew how much my body could take because I had to stubbornly run towards his direction.   
  
_/I was on my floor mat waiting for my name to be called out to the ice.  
  
Stretching to my toes and keeping my mind free of self-sabotaging thoughts, I smiled silently to myself and breathed in the air around me.   
  
I’m finally here. I’ll be able to see hi-  
My pulse stopped as my idol passed through the hallway while talking to Yuri Plisetsky on the way to the rink for the competition.  
  
No, I can’t be distracted right now. I will stand beside him one day.  
  
Inspired once more, I went to my bag to write something down and thought of Sempai.   
  
I’d poured my whole life into skating just to be within his sight. Even if I was a nobody to him. It didn’t matter to anyone else, but he was everything for me. Maybe he’d be scared of my obsessive fanboying if he ever knew how much I wanted to meet him, but it would be a long shot if he noticed me anyway.   
  
Out of nowhere, tears started to form on the rims of my eyes so I rushed to the bathroom to wash my face. Instead, I ended up leaning on the door in one of the stalls and cried out my nervousness and happiness.  
  
I’d staked everything to grab this moment./_  
  
Is that it? Is it because of my single-minded determination? That I’d done almost anything just to see him that I’m here now? That it was okay to break my body so I could have a real memory of being with him and not just in my fantasies?  
  
I know the answer. Without thinking, it will always be yes.  
  
So for the first time in my life, particularly because of the talk I had with Yurio, maybe I _can_ actually see myself beside this man. That I can glimpse at the me I imagine myself to be, but already is in his eyes…  
  
…though I have no idea what exactly he envisions.  
  
Then what about him? I don’t know how he truly views himself yet, even if my admiration grows the longer I stay with him. At certain times he’s open and shameless and others, he’s completely elusive or tight-lipped. There are many mysteries about Viktor I’ve yet to unlock.  
  
The interview drifts back into my mind and I sigh.  
 _“No, they are_ completely _different.”  
_  
He looked so upset when he said that. But she was right, wasn’t she? I did practice one of his signature routines meticulously so it didn’t make sense why he’d be mad over that. Or was it just me because we’ve been living together for a while now? I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but his expression really bothered me.  
  
Speaking of, where is Viktor anyway?  
  
Slowly I reach out to pat the cold, empty space next to me. “He’s working again. I better get him or he’ll lose track of the time.”  
  
It wouldn’t be the first or last time though. He tends to sleep late and there are nights that I wonder if it’s my fault.  
  
Getting out of bed and after putting on some shorts, I tiptoe down the hallway pretending that I have to go to the bathroom. Seeing no one in his office, I make my way to the living room.   
I stop at the threshold to find the furniture’s been pushed aside so that there’s enough space for him to spin his body without hitting the table or the chair. Maccachin is resting quietly on a cushion on the couch.  
  
What is he doing? I’ve never seen him practice inside the house before…  
  
No music is playing except inside Viktor’s red, wireless headphones. Whatever is floating in between his ears makes me feel like I’ve stepped into a waking dream, especially with the light illuminating his figure from the balcony and half of him resides in shadow.   
He nods along with the seemingly slow tempo, but suddenly, he jots something down in pencil on the table, which is scattered with notes.   
  
Viktor sets himself up in the middle of the space, posing in a penché: Leaning his chest forward while standing on his right leg, he raises and extends his left arm behind him while reaching forward with the right one. Lifting his left leg up almost straight up behind him, sweat begins to appear on his forehead but at that moment, a smile flashes on his face to mask the suffering.   
For the next part, he makes his hands into fists coming down vertically in front of his face, lowering his torso as if in flight with his left leg still extended. But then his arms open up about to hug someone or something before him. Gradually, he stands up straight on both legs, sweat pouring down to the ground. Blocking out the intense light, his hands are now above him. The right one waves diagonally, a bird flying away. His head follows the movement, but the expression on his face grabs my heart, suffocating until it bleeds itself dry:   
  


The fragile anguish of something precious escaping him.

  
  
Using the balcony glass door as his mirror, Viktor ends up staring at himself until he dissolves to the ground, kneeling with his hands covering his face and shaking.  
  
No tears are on the ground, but I know they’re there.  
  
I shouldn’t disturb him.  
In complete shock, my jaw drops and I step away, quickly turning so that he doesn’t see me. My back presses against the wall with my fingertips desperately wanting to grab onto something.  
Even without hearing the tune, it is still echoing inside me, its rippling effects spreading goosebumps all over. Whatever part of the story I walked into, seeing it up close in its raw form and not perfected or tuned yet, fills a cavity of my soul.   
  
I’ve just witnessed the magnitude of his power right before my eyes.   
  
The weight of that breathtaking purity and not wanting to lose against it or him…  
Even if I’m falling in love all over again by just watching a fraction of this new piece, how did I ever think I could compete against that?  
  
Crumbling, I slide to the ground and run my fingers through my hair. Then I hug my legs, pressing my forehead against my knees.   
  
What disturbs me most is that for a passing second, I’d imagined your younger self with that vulnerable expression…   
Is this the one I’ve been searching for ever since I kissed the tv that night? If it is, then who is that confident person I’ve been sleeping next to all these months? Two different people with the same face are living inside that body. Where do they intersect?   
  
I don’t get it at all.  
  
From years of watching all your achievements, am I glimpsing at all the dark parts others didn’t or want to know out of ignorance? What kind of sacrifices did you have to go through?  
  
For some reason, the multiplying questions squeeze my very core raw.   
  
Gazing towards the soft light of the living room, all I want to do is run there and embrace you, but I can’t. I caught a glimpse of something you didn’t want me to see. And I don’t know if I’m strong enough to demand that you tell me.  
  
Still, I’d do anything for you, Viktor. Anything.  
  
 **  
Tsuzuku…/To be continued…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve written many fics before, but I think this is the first time that I had to intricately transition so much in one chapter (but in actuality, it’s only a few minutes time-wise in the fic and into a significant scene). I think it’s influenced from writing Chiisana this past month. This is way more complicated than the last chapter!
> 
> And because I’m a masochist and this fic’s longer than I expected it to be, unexpectedly, I’m really enjoying the challenges and going slowly. When Yuuri witnesses Viktor’s new piece, it bled me raw. I guess it’s because it’s one of those few times where I could actually see it so clearly in my head. That’s rare for me. Usually, I picture a sequence of scenes and try to tie them together. This was a full on video clip in my mind. (We already know how much I love Viktor…and I’ll say it again, Sanrio x Yuuri on Ice took my wallet. If they ever do a long-haired Viktor figure...)
> 
> Maybe thinking, saving, and editing this fic for 4 years was worth it after that scene…
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it too!
> 
> Love,  
> Yui


	7. Part 6 / Viktor – Never quite whole.

**Disclaimer – Yuri on Ice belongs to Kubo and Yamamoto-sensei. And MAPPA!  
  
**  
Opening my eyes, I stare listlessly at the floor and gradually lift my head up to reorientate myself. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, the coolness of the breeze comforts me when I attempt to refocus. My eyes land on my curly child who is sleeping soundly, waiting for me to go to bed as well.  
  
I always make you fret, don’t I, Maccachin?  
  
Pushing myself up, I feel faint, having given everything I could to that part of the new routine. It’s exciting to plunge deeper into myself, as scary as it is to dive there, but the longer I dwell, the wounds reopen. The ones I stitched up and poured into every piece I ever skated: Applauded for their artistry, they were paid for by all my wasted passionate feelings with additional credits to spare.  
  
Where else could they go anyway? My identity’s so intertwined with skating that I mentally default to it to rescue me. After all, for a long time, the ice used to be my only friend.   
  
Maccachin licks my face and then goes off to sleep somewhere else when I start pushing the couch back, carefully and as soundlessly as possible. While doing so, my mind wanders to that time that is my two-faced dagger: Protecting my soul and killing my sanity simultaneously.   
  
I hold my chin, evaluating that the couch is exactly where it should be so Yuuri won’t suspect I’ve moved it. It shouldn’t matter, but I don’t want him to know. At least not for now.  
  
Pulling the table one leg at a time and twisting it so that it won’t scrape against the floor, I let out an exasperated sigh. Then I take each of my notes and place them side-by-side, wincing as all the emotions wash up, unhinged from their separate boxes locked inside of me.  
When my fingertips press the notes, they reveal the truth I’d purposely blinded myself to. I know why I didn’t want to do this piece. It was too private, a flag I refused to raise and said that I’d been emotionally defeated…  
  
Even now, I resist thinking you won though everything else says otherwise.  
  
 _/”You…you’re disgusting.”  
  
I blinked my eyes at Artyom’s cousin as he physically stood in my way, blocking the theatre door. I wasn’t even demanding to get in.   
Since Artyom was now part of their troupe and he himself was influential in that particular area of the city, his cousin and I were left alone in the hallway as everyone walked out of the building.  
  
“Did you really think he’d keep mentoring you? After all these years, you were the one they all praised. He didn’t get any recognition after you came. Your beauty and talent overshadowed everything he’d done for you.”  
  
Where was this coming from?  
  
Standing my ground, I clenched my right hand. “Let him tell me himself. Then I’ll believe it.”  
“Hmph.” His cousin walked down the hall and to the room where all their troupe was changing and packing up. “Stay away from him.”  
Stunned, I watched his back, unable to move forward.   
  
Before I’d been able to make a decision to confront Artyom, a member of the theatre booted me out. I was dismissed with all the other guests though Artyom had just told me to wait there before his cousin came to insult me.   
  
After all the trouble I took to disguise myself and against Yakov’s warning to come here, this is what happens?   
  
People walked away from the hypnotic illusions on stage and back into the streets, right back into their regular lives. But I stood a few meters away from the entrance, looking at the main doors in disbelief and slipping into a nightmare. I wasn’t ready to know what everyone else already knew...  
  
If anyone would have recognized me, what a sight it was. I was junior world champion and this ‘senior’ who wasn’t that well-known acted so pretentiously without any titles to his name. He was the dancer who happened to teach me since he’d quit skating and now went into acting.  
  
What his cousin said and how he’d acted until then didn’t make any sense to me. His cousin used to be amused by my antics and Artyom was magnetic yet kind, especially when we were alone. Away from everyone, he was a humble person and that’s how we became friends.  
  
Reluctantly, I turned around to take a taxi home. In a daze, I aimlessly gazed out the window, gradually feeling numb from the heart outwards.  
With no way of really contacting him because he didn’t carry a phone, I suddenly got a text message from an unknown number. Apparently, he’d borrowed someone’s phone.   
“Why did you leave? I thought I was bringing you back home?”  
“Do you want me to come back?” I texted back, but I wasn’t about to return to that place.  
  
Strangely, he didn’t reply an affirmative or negative. His tone suddenly did a 180: The warmth of his words became detached and business-like. Without a bye or anything resembling our closeness, he wrote, “I look forward to meeting you again at my next performance.”   
  
I stared at the flip phone in my palm until I had enough strength to close it. He’d never done that before. He was completely different from the person I’d known.   
  
The person his cousin and troupe knew or the one I talked to…who was the real one?/_  
  
Tap…tap…tap…  
One by one, I place the shells back onto the table along with the rose. After poking the petals with my fingers, I stand up to go to the kitchen.  
  
 _/Months later, because I’d been invited by Artyom, I came to another performance. Whatever happened earlier was probably my imagination right? People, even his cousin or whomever, could say anything they wanted, but that didn’t matter much to me. I’d been gossiped about my whole life for one reason or other.  
  
Only what Artyom thought was important. So if he called me to come, then it was their problem, not ours, right?  
  
But I was wrong. The ticket he’d given me was a seat in the front and center…  
…with his cousin and other people I’d seen him hang around with (but didn’t know very well because of my schedule) sitting right behind me.   
There was a sickening feeling inside my stomach as I sat there tensely waiting for another verbal attack. It came. Throughout the performance, while I was watching Artyom smile gallantly and dance as the dragon prince with a sword in his hands, his cousin kept on whispering loud enough for me to hear:  
  
_

“That person is a homo and a stalker. Can you believe he…”

_  
  
I knew they were talking about me. What I couldn’t believe was that in one tiny moment in time, it’d all implode.  
  
Four years of friendship…or that mixed courtship, whatever it was…it all vanished.  
The Artyom I knew never existed in the first place.  
  
And the tide of infliction hit unlike anything I’d ever experienced until then.  
His cousin repeated word for word what Artyom himself had said. He’d laughed and mocked me behind my back. He’d used me. It took me years to figure out it was to improve his acting since he’d always told me about ‘missing something’, that he couldn’t get the essence of whatever he was searching for.   
  
What he gained, I lost. It wasn’t only my best friend, but my innocence.   
  
I could no longer create with my whole being. Stopping short before reaching the edge of immersion, I always held something back. Somehow, I myself became fragmented. Never quite whole.  
  
I cut off my hair after that./_  
  
After pulling out a bottle of vodka from one of the lower cupboards, I stand before the kitchen sink with a glass in hand to pour myself a shot. Downing it, I feel the guilt spread down my throat and down my esophagus.   
  
I never wanted to use this as my crutch. Never again…but I need to sleep.  
  
Sitting on the couch, I stack up the papers and then get up to close the balcony, my eyes lingering over the slumbering city.  
  
Whatever the audience saw afterwards, that was my love of the ice with all the feelings I couldn’t put into words. Just like that story with the tsuru in Japan that I read once, the crane kept weaving her feathers into her loom to produce those luxurious kimono. The only thing was that the young man never knew where it came from until he broke his promise and saw the young woman in her true form.  
  
 _/Years later, his spell over me broke. Torturing me night after night from one bad dream to another, he was trying to win me back. Every nightmare repeated one theme: That wasn’t friendship at all. I’d let him take advantage of me because I trusted him implicitly.  
  
With much denial, I didn’t want to admit it was because I’d truly loved ‘him’ from the bottom of my heart. Though he was only a delusion./_  
  
Checking the living room one last time, I make sure nothing appears out of place and I get ready for bed. But when I enter our bedroom, I stop to regard his sleeping figure and put my hand over my mouth to laugh. I notice that now he’s wearing some shorts so he probably woke up at some point.   
I walk closer to squat down and place my chin over my folded arms to study his tranquil face. It gives me a sense of release, sending the depressing, mixed emotions back to where they belong: Trinkets of the past.   
  
That’s why I want you. That’s why I hold back from you too.  
  
Lying beside him, I pull Yuuri close, almost wanting to violate that gentlemanly code with that tempting, partially open mouth. I shouldn’t do anything to wake him up since he only has about two hours left to sleep, but…  
  
I need you now.  
  
Holding his head against my chest, my left hand goes under his tank top so that I can feel his flesh under my fingertips. I press onto his back lightly while kissing his hair.   
“Mmm…” Yuuri murmurs as I continue to touch his back, grazing my nails against his skin. “Viktor.”  
His eyes start to flutter and I stop short, hugging him with both of my arms. Intertwining our fingers together, I finally feel my eyelids start to become heavy.   
  
Maybe I’m ready to confront that long-haired self with my current one now that you’re here with me, Yuuri.  
  
 **Tsuzuku…/To be continued…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, but probably one of the hardest things for me to write in all my life. It somehow reminds me of Ryuichi from Gravi (who is dear to me), being older and more cut-throat. How the world goes round and here I am again.
> 
> Honestly, it has been a long time since I’ve been excited over a character and there really is something special about Viktor that makes him stick out to me. I’ve yet to discover what that is (and it’s making more sense with writing this fic).
> 
> I wanted these two parts (5 and 6) to come out at the same time because they are mirrors of one another.
> 
> Thank you for reading so far!
> 
> Love,  
> Yui


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